The Paler Shade of Autumn (20 page)

Jet stops abruptly in the middle of the room. Autumn barely stops herself in time from running into him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks in a scathing tone.

Autumn looks around Jet’s body and beholds Blossom Banks, sitting stark naked on the single lounge, long tanned legs dangling over the arm rest and six inch stilettos dripping from her feet.

Autumn gasps. “What, what’s going on, Jet?” she asks, tearing her eyes away from Blossom’s perfectly buoyant silicone breasts and hairless genitalia, both in plain view for her to see.

Jet’s eyes are wide, worried. “I’m not sure why she’s here,” he says, looking at Autumn then turning directly back to Blossom. “This is not ok. Get some fucking clothes on. Now!”

Blossom stands, moves like a limber cat towards them a few paces. “I thought I’d show you what you’ve been missing this last week, but it looks like you thought you’d try something new.”

“Autumn, why don’t you go wait in my room while I get her out of here. You don’t have to witness this.”

Autumn tries to keep her eyes to Jet, but they keep flicking to Blossom and her perfect body, her perfect face, her perfect breasts. “And, and leave you here with, with her?”

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetie,” says Blossom, winking. “He’s been left alone with me plenty.”

“Right, that’s enough!” yells Jet with more anger than Autumn anticipates, making her heart clang against her ribs. “Get your fucking clothes and get out of my apartment or I will call the police.”

Blossom grins devilishly. “Oh, and wouldn’t that cause the media a stir. Jethro Stark, ruthless businessman, throwing his pregnant girlfriend out,” she rubs her hands over the small bump of her stomach, “so he can fuck his mistress in peace.”

Autumn’s eyes open wide. She looks at Jet and then back to the definite protrusion of Blossom’s stomach and then again to Jet. “She’s pregnant?” she gasps, voice involuntarily raising an octave.

She can see the fear in Jet’s eyes. The sudden threat that he is going to lose everything he has ever wanted.

“Oh, sweetie. You mean he didn’t tell you we’re having a baby?”

“I’m not having any baby. It’s not fucking mine!” screams Jet.

Blossom tisks. “Typical man. Willing to
make
the baby…”

“Blossom!” he yells, so much fury his veins are pulsing in his neck. “This isn’t the right way to go about this.”

“How else do I get your attention, Jet? You come to my house last week and tell me, out of the blue, that it’s over without so much as an explanation why and then you don’t answer any of my calls. I’m having your baby. Did you honestly think I was going to let you go on with your life as though there isn’t a life growing inside of me, created by the two of us?”

Autumn feels her eyes beginning to well with tears as she watches the exchange.

“Fuck you,” says Jet. “You manipulative bitch.” He strides off into the bathroom to grab Blossom a towel so she can cover herself. Autumn backs out of the room and runs towards the elevator.

“I’m going to go,” she says, wiping back tears with her hand. She presses the button and the doors open.

Jet storms back into the lounge room and throws the towel at Blossom. Jet spots Autumn as she steps inside the lift.

His eyes widen. “Where are you going?” he asks, urgently.

“Anywhere but here. Don’t follow me.”

He runs for the lifts to stop her, but the doors close before he can. She rides the elevator down to the foyer and runs out the front doors onto the street. She heads down Macquarie Street, towards the stairs to Circular Quay, where she will have a chance to get lost among the crowds of night revellers and tourists.

To her right, she can hear live music, chatter and laughter, so she jogs towards it. In her bag her mobile is ringing and vibrating. Reaching inside, she grabs her iPhone. It’s Jet, of course, but she can’t talk to him, won’t talk to him. She may never be able to speak to him again. How could he be so cruel and heartless to Blossom and the baby in her womb? And most of all, how could he be so cruel to her, leading her on as though he truly cared?

A fresh batch of tears stream down her face as she flicks her phone onto silent and throws it into her bag.

“Where am I supposed to go tonight?” she whimpers, glancing down to her watch: twelve-thirty a.m.

“Careful, love,” comes a woman’s voice, thick with an American accent, as she collides directly into her.

Autumn raises her eyes to the woman, late fifties, dark tan and peroxide blonde, bouffant hair. “I’m sorry,” she says.

“Aw, sweetie, what’s the matter?”

Autumn shakes her head. “Long story.”

“Man trouble?”

“You could say that.”

“I knew it. A girl doesn’t cry for the hell of it. You want to talk about it, sweetie?”

“I’d rather not. I really just need to find a hotel.”

The lady looks at her watch, encrusted with diamonds. “At this time of night?”

Autumn nods. “Yeah,” she says and starts to cry again.

The lady extends her thick arm around Autumn’s shoulders. “I’m sure you can get in at our hotel, it’s barely a hundred yards up the road.”

“Is it expensive?” asks Autumn, worried it would be too extravagant, especially looking at the way this woman is dressed.

“Don’t you worry about it.” The lady calls a contact on her mobile, raises the phone to her ear. “Hi, Patty. I need a favour. I have a young girl here who needs a place to stay.

“That will perfect.

“Can you send down a taxi to pick her up?

“Put it all on my account.

“Thanks, honey.” The American hangs up the phone, presses the screen with her bright-pink manicured nails. “Now you wipe away those tears. Everything is taken care of.”

Autumn wants to reject her kindness, which is too much to expect from a total stranger, but she is in such a bind she doesn’t dare refuse the opportunity for a safe place to spend the night.

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much.”

The lady smiles, her teeth toilet-bowl white in contrast to her pink lipstick and overly brown skin. “I can see you need a hand. Every now and then it’s good to help someone in need. And,” she smiles wide, “every now and then it’s good to accept that help.”

Autumn throws her arms around this stranger and begins to cry again. “Thank you.”

The lady laughs. “Aw, honey. Now that right there makes it all worth it. And look, your taxi awaits you.”

Autumn glances up to the street and spies the yellow cab pulling up on the curb. “Thank you,” she says. “I really appreciate it, so much.” And strides off towards the taxi.

As she jumps in, she can see Jet jogging down the road. “Autumn,” he yells. “Wait. Please!” But she turns away from him and shuts the door.

“Hurry, please,” she says to the cab driver and they take off. She doesn’t raise her eyes to see him again as they speed off. Her heart can’t cope with it.

Autumn’s shoulders relax. She sighs with palpable relief as Tae pulls up in her Corolla at the airport. A flight was organised back to Brisbane on Virgin Australia at six o’clock on Sunday morning. She had to get as far away from Sydney, from Jet, as soon as she could. Autumn jumps in the passenger side, copping sympathetic smiles from Tae.

“I’m so sorry,” Tae says when Autumn is buckled in safely.

“Yeah, me too.”

Tae pulls the car out and accelerates along the road. “I feel so bad for talking you into sleeping with him.”

“You didn’t talk me into anything. I would have done it regardless of our talk earlier. And besides, you weren’t to know he would turn out to be such a dick.”

“I guess not. But
you
should have. What, did you avoid his hands this whole time? Or is his conscience not big enough to let the fact that he has impregnated another woman, whom he then deserted, worry him?”

Autumn thinks about that for a moment. “You know, he never did touch my hands. Only that day in his office when I first saw him.”

“So he was purposefully hiding this from you?”

Autumn nods. “Now that I think about it. Yeah. I thought he was being polite, taking my arm or wrist instead of my hand.” She remembers the tapas restaurant when he fleetingly forgot and reached for her hand, only to flinch away. She thumps her forehead with her palm. “I should have listened to you right from the beginning. This is going to complicate things at work so much and I’ve given everything to get to the position I’m in.”

Tae groans. “I don’t envy you, that’s for sure.”

Autumn peers out the window, not watching the familiar sights swish by, thinking about Jet. It still escapes her how she could have gotten it so wrong where he is concerned. “I just really believed he was a decent guy. I mean, I knew he used to be a womaniser when he was younger, but I truly thought he’d changed. To me, he was perfect.”

“Well you know what they say about that. If it sounds too good to be true, then…”

“It probably is. Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh, Autumn. What am I going to do with you?”

They drive back to the apartment. Autumn spends the day drinking wine in the company of Tae and Jace—despite the queasiness she feels after the eight glasses she drank with dinner the night before. The lack of sleep doesn’t contribute favourably either, she managed only three hours in between ignoring copious calls and texts from Jet. She knows she can’t ignore him forever, but while the wine is giving her a pleasant buzz, she is strong enough to do so.

Jordy swings by to pick her up late Sunday afternoon and drives her to their parents’ house for dinner. “Whoa, Autumn,” he says, grinning widely as she staggers to his truck and climbs in. “Are you drunk?”

She holds her thumb and pointer finger about an inch apart and slurs. “A little.”

“What are you doing here anyway? I thought you weren’t coming home till tonight.”

She tells him about the events that had taken place in Sydney. Jordy’s jaw drops open. “Fuckin’ hell. He’s worse than me. And
you
fell for a prick like that?”

Autumn sighs, breathing her alcohol infused breath throughout the cab. “Regrettably, yes.”

Jordy swings the steering-wheel, changes lanes.

“He wouldn’t touch my hand. I
knew
he was hiding something, I just trusted that he’d tell me when he wanted to.”

“Whoa, hang on” he says, eyes widening. “He knows about your abilities?”

She nods.

“Is that dangerous? Would he tell others?”

She shakes her head. “He’s known for five years, he has no reason to spill it now. Despite his current predicament, he’s a decent guy.”

“A decent guy who likes to fuck women around.”

“Yeah. That’s an adequate description.’

Jordy shakes his head. “I don’t know why you just don’t hook up with my mate, Paul. He’s so hot for you. He never stops talking about you, much to my disgust. But Paul would never play you.”

“Paul? Oh, come on, Jordy. He’s so nice.”

“What’s wrong with nice?”

“Nothing. I like nice, but he’s too nice. Sickly nice. A man’s still got to have some resemblance of balls.”

Jordy laughs raucously. “Wait till I tell him you said that.”

She gasps. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He laughs again. “Nah. I’m not that hard-hearted.”

They arrive at their parents’, where she is greeted with disapproving looks from her mother.

“Are you drunk, Autumn?” she asks, when they are on their own in the kitchen.

Autumn shakes her head. “I had one or two drinks. I haven’t eaten and barely slept last night, so it’s gone to my head.” She walks to the fridge and bends over looking at the well-stocked shelves. “Speaking of drinks, do you have any wine?”

Mrs Leone narrows her eyes. “I did buy a bottle of red to have with our roast, but I think you’ve already had plenty.”

Autumn tisks as she spies the wine sitting on the bench beside the fridge. “Mum, I’m perfectly fine. Would you like a glass?”

Mrs Leone sighs and then throws her hands in the air. “If you are going to, then I guess I shall as well.”

Autumn smiles. “Now that’s more like it.”

By the time the dessert has been devoured and all the dishes are cleaned, Autumn is completely sloshed, swaying and slurring accompanying every step and sentence. Jordy, sitting on the bench, is aiding her saturation by refilling her glass as soon as it empties.

“Jordy,” says Frank, sternly. “I think Autumn has had more than enough.”

“But she’s so much more fun when she isn’t an uptight bitch. Alcohol is the best masking agent.”

Autumn looks at her father. “Dad, I’m fine.” And throws a punch at Jordy’s arm. He grabs her hand to stop her and despite her condition of near total inebriation, receives blurry, alcohol-ridden swirls of his mind’s pictures.

She flinches her hand away and stares squarely at him. Jordy lowers his eyes to his lap, then finds his mother’s in an attempt at avoidance. “Well that was delicious, Mum. As usual,” he says, jumping off the bench.

“Thank you, Jordy.”

“I think we should be taking off now, though.”

“I agree,” says Frank. “Put Autumn into bed otherwise she won’t be getting up for work tomorrow.” He looks at Autumn. “Aren’t you manager at the moment?”

Autumn nods slowly her thoughts still occupied by what she saw in Jordy’s mind. “
Acting
manager,” she says, distracted.

“You’re not going to set too much of an example showing up smelling like a bar.”

“I agree,” says Mrs Leone. “Whatever possessed you to get into this state on a Sunday night?”

Autumn places her hands on her hips, trying not to sway. “There is no reason, so please, just get off my back.”

Mrs Leone looks at her daughter. “Come on, Autumn. This isn’t like you.”

Autumn flutters her eyelids rapidly, keeping at the bay tears patiently waiting in the wings. “I’m fine, Mum. Honestly.”

Mrs Leone shrugs. “If you say so.”

“Alright,” says Jordy. “Let’s blow this pop stand. I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

They say their quick goodbyes and Autumn staggers behind Jordy to his truck. They climb in and start the short drive back to her apartment.

“So you had sex with her,” she says, voice full of scorn when they accelerate away from her parents’ house.